On the crumbling bridge that connected the two imposing sides of the impressive military outpost and fortress that was Ostagar stood a small group of sundry travelers. They were lead by a man in intricate armor with two swords strapped across his back walking with an easy gait that said he knew how to use them. His company comprised of three sure-footed but younger associates, and many of the people meandering around the encampment recognized them as the Gray Wardens. Trailing in the back of the group, shoulders slumped and eyes shadowed by bags, a young Dalish elf with dragging footsteps looked around the foreign human encampment with clouded eyes. Her bearing, although tired, showed that she was used to the staff that she currently leaned on. Her simple, unarmoured clothing and unmuscled frame was the more imposing fact about her, however, as that spoke of the arcane use she got from her weapon.

Up close, one could see that this young woman was not in her best condition. Serina's skin was naturally pale, but her face held a sickly pallor that could not be mistaken. A light sheen of sweat encompassed her, and the color of her skin was diminished to showing the gentle organic hues that pulsed with disease thickened blood. Her eyes, dark in the center, were bloodshot and dilated. The sound of her breathing was short and labored, and on the effluvium she emitted was the stench of decay and sickness. Bones jutted from her svelte shoulders and hips, her clothes fitted loosely, and her visage was a grimace of discomfort even though she was just standing and not otherwise exerting herself. The sun, usually acting to enhance the appearance of beautiful woman, instead showed how wan she had become bereft of her health. This woman was undoubtedly sick, and several curious eyes asked why the Gray Wardens would accept such a weak candidate.

Over the duration of the group's travels, the Dalish had gotten progressively worse: she appeared more and more out of her proper state of mind the longer they traveled. Even so, Serina had proved that she could still hold her own in battle and sustained movement despite obvious muscle loss. It was when she had to commit her attention to something, and was engaged in other more intellectual matters, that her tainted blood slowed and clouded her responses. The darkspawn taint affects everyone differently(though is still identifiable as the same disease), and for the learned mage her mind took the brunt of the damage. Her speech, response time, planning skills, and all associated actions deteriorated as did her body and blood. She had already lived too long with the taint. She was not yet decrepit, but it was undeniable that without treatment she too would become one of the warped, twisted, [i]disgusting[/i] aberrations that were darkspawn. 

As the group slowed, and their leader addressed them, a high pitched caw pierced the air. Coming up from the valley below, a great gray owl with a magnificent wingspan glided up and then downward and onto the shoulder of the afflicted mage. She acknowledged the bird with a heavy hand, as though the energy of such a small movement was enough to tire her, and a mumbled coo. Duncan then departed, and Serina had only half heard his directions. Even so, if he had noticed, he probably wouldn't have worried: the young elf was both well behaved and friendly. As he left, the tattoo-less Dalish shook her head as if to clear it of the fog of illness. Her dark gaze slightly more focused, she raised her head and swiveled it around to take in the panoramic view of Ostagar. She lingered when she faced the Korcari Wilds, but only for a brief moment. 

She watched through half lidded eyes as one of her companions, the man she knew as Edward, departed, and three individuals came forward on the disintegrating bridge, one alone and two on horseback. Serina recognized none of them, but even her sickened mind could gather that the two on horseback were of importance. She continued forward slowly, at times pausing to lean on her staff or look around, as the strangers approaching seemed intent on interacting with them. Unknown to the Dalish at this time, her new status encouraged attention, and she was being approached by the Queen of the nation. She straightened none the less, not in a prideful manner but as a respectful gesture, and met the eyes of the approaching strangers levelly. She was both an elf and mage, exotic and imposing, and cut an impressive figure despite her obvious ailment.